


What The Tin Man Lacks

by TheBlackLagoon



Series: The Tin Man [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy is an asshole but he's working through stuff, F/M, Gay Billy Hargrove, I swear to god the next installation won't be so sad, Internalized Homophobia, Introspective Nonsense, M/M, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Crush, gay Tommy Hagan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackLagoon/pseuds/TheBlackLagoon
Summary: And Billy thinks, not for the last time, Dean had been wrong. Billy wasn’t the Cowardly Lion. He had courage and gusto, and confidence through the roof. No, what he lacked was a heart. That beating, fleshy thing, that gave purpose, and love.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Onesided Tommy Hagan/Billy Hargrove, Pre-Relationship - Relationship, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler
Series: The Tin Man [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979021
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	What The Tin Man Lacks

**Author's Note:**

> These are just going to get continually longer, so they'll take me longer to write- part 4 will be an actual multichapter! But here's this, I'm quite happy with it, although it turned into something way different than I thought it was going to be. Tommy Hagan somehow wiggled his way in, and through that effort, I thought he deserved a place for a bit. Hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
> Edit: I now have a fantastic [moodboard](https://scoobydoo-ghoulschool.tumblr.com/post/632902324443119616/another-of-memes-saved-me-s-beautiful-works-for) for this fic by [memes-saved-me](https://memes-saved-me.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr (Memessavedme on Ao3), so please go check it and memes-saved-me out!! :)

It’s almost funny to think Billy had bought into the idea of a fresh start at first. Their removal from California ached like an open wound, and he still couldn't bring himself to leave behind Dean’s jean jacket- but- this was his chance at a do-over. He understood now, what he could and couldn’t have, the things he could say, what he could get away with. He would be better, he would be something those podunk Indiana kids had never seen before.

The grand entrance is easy enough- The Camaro in its dark blue chrome, already stands out among the lines of dusty trucks and second hand station wagons. For good measure and with the added benefit of watching Max cringe, he cranks Scorpions all the way up, letting it spill out to the small watchful crowds. 

He is different, and boundary breaking, and he is going to make sure that by the end of the week, every kid at Hawkins High will know his name.

Tommy Hagan latches onto Billy as soon as he steps into the crowded lunchroom that afternoon. And it’s Billy’s first mistake in Hawkins. The plan had been to grab a coke, and then ditch to smoke in his car. It would stir up talk amongst his classmates, he would keep them guessing about the kind of guy he was. 

But Tommy ruins all of that when he approaches Billy in the lunch line. 

“Billy Hargrove right? New transfer from California?” He’s already got a tray full of food in hand, and a redhead at his elbow, who’s watching him like he’s a piece of meat she very much wants to take a bite of.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” 

“Just thought you could use a friend; Name’s Tommy- why don’t you come sit with us, we’ve got the best seats in the place,” Tommy says, motioning his shoulder to a table at the back situated away from the crowd and near a bank of windows. There is something in the way the two hold themselves, the cruel tilts of their mouths, that Billy knows these kids are rich. They’ve got influence. He decides then and there he’ll let them stick around.

“Sure, why not,” he says, and steps out of line to follow them. He doesn’t need the extra sugar from the Coke anyway.

“I’m Carol,” the redhead sticks out her hand as they walk, smiling so wide and fake it looks like she’s trying to win Ms. Indiana. Billy gives it one tentative shake and lets go, glad to see the disappointment on her face as he drops her hand so quickly.

Their conversation, to say the least, is boring. Nothing ever, apparently, happens in Hawkins Indiana. The stuff Tommy and Carol find thrilling enough to share is banal as fuck. The only thing that really sparks his attention is dropped as he’s watching the clock at the front of the cafeteria counting down the minutes until he can getaway.

“Tina Parker is having a party tomorrow night, for Halloween. You should come,” Tommy says around a mouthful of lettuce and beef. 

“Yeah? What is it, some sort of tailgating shit?” He can just see it now, pickup trucks sunk in the mud, a large smoking bonfire, and plenty of dumpy looking high school girls playing to get laid. 

“No, her parents are out for the week, and they’ve got nice digs. I hear they’ll be a keg,” Tommy says with raised eyebrows, and Billy nods his head once, mind made up.

“I think the free beer is incentive enough.” The two smile back at him, excitement clear in both their faces. He’s their new, shiny toy- he knows that. But if they can get him where he needs to go it doesn’t matter.

The period bell rings then, and Billy gives an internal sigh of relief at having Carol’s next topic of choice be cut off. He slides out of his seat, smooth and he can feel both of their eyes lingering on him as he saunters away.

“See you, Billy!” Carol calls after him, and he gives a wave over his shoulder without turning back around.

Aloof, mysterious, brand new Billy.

**~~~**

The party, while not quite the backwoods rager he’d been expecting, is just like any high school party. Tommy is already out front smoking with a couple of other boys, as Billy pulls the Camaro up into the crowded lawn. 

Carol is nowhere in sight.

This fact alone confirms a suspicion as Billy approaches, a cigarette gripped between his lips as he pulls out his lighter. 

He knew what Tommy wanted, he made it obvious enough with each one of their few interactions. Every word out of Billy’s mouth would be lapped up in Tommy’s unerring observation, eyes hungry and mouth sharp. Yeah, Billy wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what Tommy wanted. He’d met boys like him before- never planning on making a move themselves, but watching, waiting for even a hint of something more. And, Billy supposes, he’d been like that at one point too, except he knows now- he knows that no move is the best move. You don’t show interest, you don’t pry, you just- _don’t_. 

But even with all this knowledge at his disposal, even knowing how bad of an idea Tommy Hagan really is, he can’t bring himself to turn the attention away. Billy needs the distraction, and Tommy comes along so willingly.

Billy can’t even really feel bad about it. If Tommy wanted to waste his time chasing something that was never going to happen, that was his prerogative. 

The keg stand is in the backyard, and already a twiggy teenage boy is being lifted over it. He chokes after about 5 seconds, spluttering as his friends lower him. Billy laughs along with the rest of the raucous crowd, it’s harsh and callous, and the kid already red in the face races off back into the house.

Billy doesn’t feel bad. 

“You think you could beat a minute?” Tommy asks as the crowd starts calling out for a new volunteer.

“I could do a minute my freshman year,” Billy sneers and Tommy laughs, smile all teeth. 

“Then you can easily dethrone King Steve’s minute and 5 seconds.”

“Yeah, and where is this King Steve?” 

“See the guy with the douchey sunglasses and big hair? That’s Steve Harrington- if you can beat his record you’ll be our next reigning monarch,” Tommy points through the clear glass back door into the crowded dance floor. The guy’s back is turned, but Billy can tell he’s thin and lanky. He can beat him. 

He steps forward into the waiting crowd leather jacket open, chest glistening in the low light.

“Then let’s do this.”

He gets to 2 minutes and 15 seconds, by the time he motions to be put down. The crowd cheers, an overpowering roar that sings through Billy’s blood. Tommy’s hands are all over him as they walk out of the crowd, and Billy can’t blame himself for letting it happen. He’s drunk and on top of his game, and no one is going to suspect a thing. 

The crowd inside is even rowdier, as music blasts from some hidden speakers. He feels- loose, and wishy-washy like he really may be King. 

And then there, across the room, leaning against the wall with an easy grin- is Steve Harrington. 

The thing is, Harrington is nothing like Dean. Every inch, every minute detail, everything gleams in stark contrast. But even from across the room, filled with sweating, drunk teens, Billy instantly feels that same familiar tug in his gut. Like a missing puzzle piece clicking into place. It- does something to him. Ignites some primal flight or fight, because- he knows better now. But even so, Billy can feel himself crossing the room, drawn by that odd innate force.

Tommy is close behind, because of course he is, and when his eyes lock onto Billy’s trajectory, onto Harrington, his mouth takes on that signature cruel twist. 

This isn’t going to end well. But of course, Billy knew that the moment he took the first step in Harrington’s direction.

“Got ourselves a new Keg King Harrington,” Tommy says, as soon as they reach their destination, clamping a hand on Billy's shoulder, almost like he’s a trophy being lorded over the loser. Billy wants him gone, wants all of Harrington’s attention for himself.

“Yeah, and who is he?” Steve’s eyes pin him, and whatever snarky, uncaring thing he was going to say slips from his mind.

“Name’s Billy.” He tries to tack on a sneer, take away the sincerity, but Harrington’s eyes are already drifting away out to the crowd, searching for someone that isn’t Billy.

“Yeah well, enjoy it,” and that’s it, that’s all he says before he’s skirting off to follow the chick he’d come with. 

“God he’s so fucking whipped, last year he would have actually challenged you for the title,” Tommy says in disgust as they watch Harrington and his girl squabble over a punch bowl. 

Billy feels sick.

“I think I’m done here- only so much shit beer I can take. You know where I can find anything good in this hick town?” He needs real alcohol if he wants to make it through the night, and he needs to get out of Tina-fucking-Parker’s house.

The ever loyal Tommy has a bottle of whiskey in a hidden compartment in the trunk of his car. It’s already half empty, but it’s enough.

They drive out to the quarry together, and Billy lets Tommy babble at him because he can’t shake the feeling of Harrington’s eyes on him. It’s the beginning of an itch he needs to shake. He promised himself- he told himself- this was supposed to be a fresh start.

After a while- too long he knows he needs to be heading home- the cold finally starts to get to Billy. He’d neglected to bring along a shirt, and the zipper on his leather jacket hasn’t worked in years. Without a word to Tommy, he shifts off the hood of Camaro and shoves himself into the front seat. 

He sits for a moment, eyes closed, and lets the numb unfeeling turn into pins and needles across his skin. The passenger door opens, and still, Billy keeps his eyes closed. It stays quiet, just the sound of their breaths sinking up. It’s relaxing in a strange kind of way.

“Hey, Billy?” Tommy’s voice is quiet, slightly strained and the tone sets Billy’s nerves on edge. His eyes snap open, and Tommy looks apprehensive and shaky for whatever reason.

“ _What-?_ ”

And then suddenly, without warning, Tommy is leaning across the dash and his lips are on Billy’s. For a moment all he can do is let it happen. It’s wet and sloppy, and Tommy is so obviously drunk it’s almost funny. Mostly it’s just terrifying. Billy had been so sure- sure that he knew the kind of a person Tommy was, that this had never been an option.

But when Tommy’s hand wanders down, laying firmly on his inner thigh, Billy pushes him away. They stare at one another, faces flushed from the alcohol, shimmering with sweat, and Billy feels like he’s going to puke.

“I- I wasn’t thinking man- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Shut up,” Billy snaps, suddenly sure that something is wrong. He turns away, and shuts his eyes hard, like maybe if he can’t see, then this will all go away. There is a washed out ringing in his ears, a panic building in his chest so fast he feels like he’s going to shake apart. Neil’s not here, he’s nowhere close, but Billy feels like- No, he _knows_ he’s in danger.

“I can get out if-?” Tommy’s voice cuts through just a bit, and Billy sucks a harsh breath through his nose. He’s drunk, he’s being- irrational. He still can’t look up, he can’t face Tommy like this.

“Billy, are you-?”

“I’ll drive you home- just, _don’t apologize to me_ ,” Billy's voice sounds far away to his own ears and his hands are shaking as he turns the key in the ignition. The headlights come on bright and blinding, revealing the quarry’s edge, the engine rumbling to life. For an instant, he has the urge to gun it, right over the ledge, maybe it would make this- this shaking apart feeling go away. 

Instead, because he has enough sense to do so, he puts the car in reverse, and he drives Tommy home.

**~~~**

They don’t talk about it at school. From the bags under Tommy’s eyes, Billy’s not sure he even remembers the night before.

For good measure- for security, Billy picks up Jennifer Vaughn from his home room. She’s been eyeing him since he’d first made his introduction, and convincing her to drive home with him was easy enough. They make plans to meet when school lets out, and Billy can feel a weight lift from his shoulders almost immediately.

He can still do it. He can play the role.

And he continues to think this, until gym. They’re playing basketball, shirts vs skins- and Harrington’s on the opposing team. And he can’t play ball for shit. 

He can move quickly, but he has none of the grace and power to be a challenging opponent. It all just makes Billy irritable- he can’t stop noticing every little mistake- if he would just plant his feet, use a little more force, he could make something of himself. 

He’s harsher than he needs to be, poking and prodding to gain some sort of reaction, but-

_He’s not Dean, he’s not going to be like Dean, so he shouldn’t- It’s only been a month and he can’t-_

He takes Jennifer home that afternoon and gets far enough with her where she’s satisfied, and the knot in his stomach disappears. He lays her out on his bed, not bothering to lock the door because if his dad catches them there won’t be those same repercussions. He's playing the role, he’s doing his part. 

And he doesn’t feel a thing.

And Billy thinks, not for the last time, Dean had been wrong. Billy wasn’t the Cowardly Lion. He had courage and gusto, and confidence through the roof. No, what he lacked was a heart. That beating, fleshy thing, that gave purpose, and love. 

Billy’s always been the Tin Man, through and through.

And the process is repeated the very next day. Harrington continues to be his useless weepy self, hung up on a chick who’s clearly not interested anymore. And when the itch starts to become too much, when Billy knows he’s pushing too hard, he picks up a friend of Carol’s as Tommy watches with his arm slung over his girlfriend's shoulders. 

The knot in his stomach, that anxious itch all over, doesn’t go away this time as he unhooks a bra in the back of the Camaro. It doesn’t go away when the girl, who’s name he can’t even remember, leaves with smeared lipstick and a silly punch drunk smile. It doesn’t go away. 

**~~~**

Max is missing because of course, she is, it’s just another thing to add to the list of his fuck ups this week. Because of course she still doesn’t understand, she doesn’t care that when Billy is left alone in their house he’s not _safe_. She and her new little boyfriend don’t know anything about what he has to do to just _exist_.

So when he pulls into the dark country drive, and it’s Harrington of all people who meets him outside, looking for once, like the King Tommy mentions so often, Billy wants to laugh. 

He loses it, he knows he does, but it’s there in that dim and disaster filled house that Harrington actually fights back. He pushes and Harrington pushes back. 

He thinks, as he straddles Harrington, bringing his fists down again and again, that this is the closest they will ever be. This is all he gets and hates it. Hates himself, hates Harrington and Max. _Because this is all he gets._

He thinks he’s crying by the time Max sticks him with the sedative. 

As he drifts out of consciousness, with Max above him, holding a baseball bat full of nails, screaming different words in the same tone as his father- _Say it- I couldn’t hear you- Good respecting brother- Leave me and my friends alone- Say it!_

I understand. Respect and Responsibility.

An automaton taking orders. Playing the part. Walking the straight and narrow.

He understands.

**~~~**

If someone doesn’t have a heart, is it possible to love? 

Billy doesn’t know. Because sometimes- sometimes there is too much to feel, in too little time. Too much, and then nothing at all. A numb nothing, just clanging metal joints, and hollow insides. Something faulty in the wiring, some hidden piece missing or broken.

He thinks maybe this twisted yearning for touch and sensation, no matter the cost is all that he’s capable of. _Is that love?_

Yeah, Billy’s not stupid- he knows that it’s not.

He doesn’t see Steve again until Wednesday. Head held high, looking like death warmed over.

Billy did that. The whole school knows.

Billy Hargrove dethroned the king. And no one's too happy about it.

Harrington doesn’t meet his eyes, just keeps walking down the hall, books clutched close to his chest. But Billy still watches, until he’s lost in the bustling swarm of students. 

“Why are you so hung up on him huh? He wouldn’t even remember your name if you hadn’t beaten his ass,” Tommy’s voice snaps him out of it, as loud and dissonant as the slamming of the lockers. 

“ _Where’s Carol, Tommy?_ Probably about time you got back to her,” Billy snaps, clutching on to his locker to keep from pinning the other boy.

“Whatever man, but Steve Harrington is never gonna look at you. Just a word of advice,” Tommy sneers, but there is just a bit too much truth in the crack of his voice. 

Billy watches him stalk away, and- he doesn’t feel a thing. There is no regret or hesitance in his mistreatment of Tommy. It’s just a hollow, dull _thunk, thunk, thunk_. Artificial life, artificial heart, artificial love. He lets his locker fall shut, and he heads for the school's exit. Max takes the bus now, so he’ll have plenty of time to be alone.


End file.
